Vive le Contorsionniste
by Ithilmir
Summary: M. Madeline finds a surprise in his office cupboard. An odd little piece, written for the revolutionbut April Challenge.


**A/N: **The challenge read as thus; _"__One of the characters has a secret talent. Write a fic in which his/her secret talent is discovered. Can be as slashy as you'd like."_ Alas, I didn't go for slash, but something quite strange nonetheless. Another Montreuil one-shot.

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M. Madeline paced up and down his office, backwards and forwards in front of his desk. It would be fair to say that the mayor of Montreuil-sur-Mer was troubled and, as with most of the mayor's troubles, this trouble came in the form of Montreuil's chief of police. Ever since Javert had arrived three years ago M. Madeline had lived in constant fear of his true identity being revealed, and now it seemed that those years of anxiety were coming to a head.

He was not sure exactly what had caused him to worry so; there had so far been no public denouncement, no direct disobeying of orders. No, it was something more subtle; some indistinct changes in Javert's behaviour that no one who didn't know the Inspector intimately would notice. He knew through the other gendarmes that Javert had been making inquiries as to his background; yet Javert had been nothing but discreet, giving away no hint of his suspicion to his quarry. It had not escaped his attention that Javert had been watching him more attentively than usual, and now this knowing leer every time they passed, this even more rigid formality on the part of the Inspector made Jean Valjean fear for his liberty. There was no doubt in M. Madeline's mind that Javert knew he was an ex-convict (and which ex-convict in particular) but until now he had been sure his office of mayor and reputation of generosity would protect him; anything Javert could trawl up in comparison would be dismissed as ludicrous.

And it was not only Javert's behaviour that put the mayor on edge, but also how the man seemed to know so much. Of course, such a religious man as M. Madeline accepted that only God under Heaven was omnipotent, but Javert seemed to give him a run for his money. Just the way he looked at a person could make the most innocent of men squirm with guilt. It occurred to him that in order to discover more private information Javert was not above spying, but if he were he was exceptionally good at covering his tracks. For all he knew the man might as well be clairvoyant.

The question that faced him now though was what course of action to take? There was no logical reason to run… not yet anyway. Besides, running would needlessly rouse suspicion. He could have Javert dismissed, but the Secretary would demand to know on what grounds, and there was no making false accusations against such a sterling officer as Javert. The only plausible thing to do was to sit it out; carry on as normal, but maybe start arranging things so if the occasion called for it he could beat a hasty retreat. In the meantime… Maybe he'd been too _laissez-faire_ about police matters; maybe it was time to reign the Inspector in a little. If he were to be seen taking more public interest in his office, and perhaps adopting some of its outer trappings as well? He and Javert would be attending Mme. Roussel's gala tonight in their official capacities; maybe if he were to be seen wearing the mayoral chain it might serve as a reminder to Javert just exactly what he would be challenging.

With a weary sigh M. Madeline halted the process of his pacing and made towards a rarely frequented corner of his office, containing the cabinet where mayoral robes and chain were kept. As he removed the key from his waistcoat pocket and fitted it into the lock he tried to recall what exactly the heavily ornate gold chain looked like. He had only worn it once, about two years ago when he had first been appointed mayor, then it had disappeared inside this cabinet and never been seen again since.

The lock clicked and he opened the door, then he let out a loud howl of surprise as all of a sudden something large and black tumbled out of the cabinet past his feet and landed with a thud on the carpet. To his even greater surprise the large black thing was in fact a fully-grown man twisted into a series of mind-boggling contortions designed to make his body take up the smallest area possible. And it was with genuine horror that he realised, as the man began to unfold himself, that man was in fact Javert.

On his part, M. Madeline found it impossible to do anything else but stand there with his mouth open, hand still poised on the door of the cupboard as Javert straightened up, grimacing and stretching his back. There was a resounding click as he moved his head from side to side and he let out a sigh of relief. The Inspector then turned around, completely composed, and gave a curt nod to the astounded mayor.

"Good day, monsieur."

And he strode out of the door as if nothing extraordinary had happened at all.

M. Madeline looked from the incredibly small cabinet to the doorway where only moments before the exceptionally large Inspector had stood, then back to the cabinet again. In a daze he closed and locked the cupboard door, walked with unsteady steps back to his desk and sat down, tugging on the bell-pull to summon his secretary.

Jean Valjean was, now, very worried indeed.


End file.
